


Welcome the Drowning

by uniquepov



Series: Snarry LDWS Round 5 (Mini-fic Challenge) [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-22
Updated: 2012-04-22
Packaged: 2017-11-05 08:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/404413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uniquepov/pseuds/uniquepov
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus reflects.</p><p>Week 9<br/>
Prompt: Power-is-like-catnip-to Snape; Harry's very powerful</p><p>
  <a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/uniquepov/pic/0002012x/">
    <img/></a>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome the Drowning

**Author's Note:**

> I participated in Round 5 of the [](http://snarry-ldws.livejournal.com/profile)[**snarry_ldws**](http://snarry-ldws.livejournal.com/) \- the Mini-Fic challenge! I was lucky enough to make it to the final two, where the inimitable [](http://literaryspell.livejournal.com/profile)[**literaryspell**](http://literaryspell.livejournal.com/) took home the gold, as they say.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I solemnly swear that I am up to no good; however, I promise to return everyone, good as new, when I'm done playing with them. I own nothing that you recognize, and I do not profit from any of it.

Harry is, arguably, the most powerful wizard our world has seen in generations.

More powerful than Dumbledore, or Voldemort, certainly. Possibly more powerful than the Founders, or even Merlin.

So powerful now that his magical signature overpowers everyone else’s. He needs constant shielding, so that his magic doesn’t interact with that of others and cause erratic, accidental magical outbursts.

So powerful now that it takes another person to help shield him – his own shields are insufficient.

And he is mine.

During the day, he has a cadre of people who help in shifts. Ms Granger, Ms Lovegood, Mr Weasley. Even that woefully inept Longbottom takes his turn; thankfully, by all accounts, his Shielding Charms are stronger than his Potions skills.

During the day, when all the magical shields are in place, it is easy for me to remember the annoying chit of a schoolboy he was. It is easier to retain my perspective and to see Harry for who he truly is. A flawed hero. A man who never had the chance to be a boy; who grew old before he grew up. The son of my childhood sweetheart, and my childhood enemy.

He is a contradiction. Powerful beyond measure, but uncertain and unassuming. A war hero, who looks to those he trusts for comfort and security. Well into his forties, but he clings with childish abandon to those he loves.

During the day, I wonder whether it is truly my heart that draws me to him. I am endlessly fascinated by the complex riddle he presents. I am drawn to his contradictions, to his character and to his vulnerability.

During the day, I am able to keep my distance; to maintain the aloof, intensely private persona which I have cultivated for all these years.

During the day, I acknowledge to myself the siren call he exerts over me. I may even attempt to analyse it, but I am never wholly successful.

For a day does not last forever; evening comes as certainly as the dawn.

And evening is an entirely different matter.

In the evening, there are no outsiders, no protectors, no sycophants. Our home is well protected, warded and shielded, and we are able to be finally, blessedly, alone. Together.

In the evening, we sit before the fireplace, feeding our minds with long talks and good books, feeding our souls with aged whisky and slow kisses.

In the evening, when we are alone, all I need is to have him in my arms. His proximity overcomes my reason.

I am a moth to his flame, drawn ever closer to immolation. He is the sun, my orbit inexorably drawn to him. His presence overwhelms my very soul.

His magic engulfs me; I am held in his hands, sheltered in his power, _safe_ at long last.

And I am his.

During the day, I question whether what we have is truly love, or if it is merely the inescapable pull his power exerts on my psyche. Am I in love with the man, or entranced by his magic?

In the evening, at the end of each day, I know that even if I were to find the answer, it would never affect our fates.

Harry’s power laps around my soul, washing over me like the tide. I am carried away by his current, swept out to the deep, and welcome the drowning.

During the day, and in the evening, he is mine, and I am his.


End file.
